February 12, 1997
As Meghan had learned, life was by no means a fair and balanced existence. It's a fickle beast, taking and taking and taking from people, sometimes by force, with no guarantee of redemption.
Meghan woke up, coughed up a lung, washed up, bundled up, and rode the bus to school. All of this through a haze of cold medicine and hot chocolate, exacerbated by unusually aggressive biting winter air.
It sucked.
She crawled through the day in what could only be described as a slog, deflecting any unnecessary human contact and locking her speaking voice away in an airtight vault.
Meghan had a relative understanding with her fifth-grade teachers. She was smart enough to listen, absorb, and apply what they were saying, so she did her work without the teachers forcing her to say anything if she didn't choose to.
If only the other kids were so courteous.
Meghan liked her friends, she really did, but if she was feeling like a truck made of virus ran her over, she really didn't want to hold extensive conversations on the wonders of Dunkaroos.
At the risk of being "that girl," she answered everything non-verbally, nods and hand motions taking the place of spoken words. Fortunately, her friends knew – it was the season, after all.
Unfortunately, not all of the snotty children were her friends.
Meghan stared at the clock. 2:28. Only thirty-two minutes to go… The teacher had them doing a math assignment to kill time until the end of the day, one that was laughably easy for her. As such, she was done within twenty minutes.
Not that she was complaining.
The teacher strolled around the room, hands behind his back, looking from desk to desk. His gaze caught hers, and she pointed in the general direction of the bathroom. He got the idea and cocked his chin toward the door.
She stood up and left the room, signing a 'thank you' to the teacher.
An empty hallway greeted her, the light squeaking of sneakers on the tile flooring echoing from wall to wall. Meghan hugged her sweatshirt-covered arms closer to her, wondering why in the world the air conditioning was on.
It might be California, but this is stupid.
The singular stream of thought distracted her just long enough for her to not register the second set of footsteps coming from around the corner, and she collided with a boy coming from the opposite direction.
Meghan squeaked out a scratchy 'sorry,' turning to continue toward her destination, before an exclamation sounded off.
"Hey dummy, what did ya do that for?"
She didn't answer, staring at the boy incredulously.
He continued. "Are you too dumb to talk? Did your parents not teach you how to talk?"
Meghan rolled her eyes and turned again.
"Hey! Are you gonna answer me?!" He placed his hands on his hips.
The boy ran and pushed her in the back. She stumbled and hit a row of lockers, a metal handle digging into her arm on impact.
"Tss- oww…"
Her eyes lit up in anger, and she stormed up to the boy.
"Don't do that again."
He scoffed. "You can talk! But you're still stupid. Your clothes look dumb, and your hair looks like a boy's. Your mom and dad must hate you!"
"Shut up. Now."
"Or what? Are you gonna tell on me?"
She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him close, "Or I'll beat you up and cough in your face, you brat!"
She shoved him away and spun around, trying to will the walls into absorbing the little pig…
Until he chased her down again and punched her in the same arm, spitting as he did so.
This time, Meghan used the wall to fire herself at the boy like a rocket and hit him with her shoulder. His back hit the lockers on the opposite wall, rattling the metal doors. Before he had a chance to react to the pain, Meghan recaptured his bunched shirt and threw him to the ground.
A flurry of punches bounced his head back and forth. Left eye, right eye, left ear, right ear. Flailing attempts to get her off him before she quashed them by punching each side of his ribs.
Heavy, ragged breaths left her illness-addled lungs, forcing her to cough at his face, adding illness to injury.
Satisfied, Meghan bounced up from her knees and left the crying boy to quiver in the hallway, alone.
3:19.
That's what the clock in the principal's office read. Meghan sat in the lobby of the administration group for the school, waiting for the hammer to drop.
The boy from before sat in the seat farthest from her, casting a glance her way every so often as if she was about to pull a Hitchcock and come back for more.
The incessant ticking of the wall clock was driving her crazy, she wanted to tear it down and smash it with the stupid little desk ornament on the receptionist's desk.
A tall, older man with a striped oxford shirt stepped into the room. "Gelvan, come in here please."
"Gelvan" shot up from his seat and bolted into the office. Meghan watched him go, before resuming her death stare at the time teller.
Soft voices carried from outside the office, dragging her attention away. Two adults rounded the corner, each holding expressions of disappointment. One, she assumed, was Gelvan's mother.
The other, was her father.
They sat down on either side of Meghan, and she wanted nothing more than to fade into the chair.
Sean rubbed Meghan's head lightly, "Hey Angel. You alright?"
She didn't meet his eyes, but nodded hesitantly.
"What happened, Meg?"
She shrugged. "Nothin'."
Sean and the woman looked at each other, and she spoke softly. "You don't have to be scared, sweetie, we just want to know. I won't be mad."
Still nothing.
"It wouldn't be the first time that Van did something like this. I guess this time, he got what he deserved. I kept telling him that one day, life would catch up."
Meghan chanced a look up at the woman. "He said mean things and pushed me into the lockers, then he spit on me."
The woman sighed and shook her head, muttering something to herself that Meghan didn't catch. She looked to Sean and Meghan.
"I am so sorry, both of you. Seems I have to give Van an attitude adjustment."
Sean shook Meghan's shoulder. "Why don't you apologize, hun?"
She looked up at the woman with a glazed stare. "I'm sorry…"
The woman cracked a weary smile. "Thank you, dear."
Gelvan stepped out of the principal's office, eyes popping at the sight of his mother. Her expression soured, causing him to flinch.
The principal commanded everyone's attention. "You two should do some apologizing. Please."
Meghan looked up at her father.
He nudged her. "Go on."
Meghan leveled a harsh look at Gelvan. "Sorry."
He shuffled his feet, speaking as softly as possible. "Me too."
The principal looked at Gelvan's mother, "Two-day suspension."
She gave a terse nod and looked at her son. "Let's go, young man."
She shepherded him out of the office, harsh whispering filling the hallway as they left the building.
"You're up, Meghan." The principal was expressionless, but she had a feeling that he'd already made up his mind.
She followed the man into the office and sat down.
"Start from the beginning."
So she did, recounting the one-sided "fight" from the time she left the classroom.
"…And you coughed-"
"On him, yeah."
He hummed. "Meghan, what do you think happens now?"
"You're gonna suspend me, too."
"The only choice, really."
He sighed, removed his black-rimmed glasses, and placed them on the large wooden desk.
"If I'm being honest, Meghan, I don't blame you for what you did. I tell my daughters to do whatever they have to in order to defend themselves." He leaned back in his chair and folded a leg to rest on his knee. "But, there are rules. Doesn't matter how much Gelvan deserved what he got, you still aren't allowed to hit people."
Meghan coughed into her sleeve and sat up. "So I'm just supposed to let him hit me and say mean things and spit on me?"
"I didn't say he was in the right, he's still getting punished."
Her temper flared. "But that isn't fair! If I don't do anything, he still does bad things and I end up hurt anyway-!"
The principal held up a hand and cut her off. "I'm sorry, Meghan, boys just tend to do things like this when they're young. He'll learn and grow out of it. You still acted more out of line than him."
Meghan's mouth hung open, her brows knitting together in barely contained rage. "Are you serious, sir?"
"Very."
Meghan looked down, seeing her arms visibly shaking. It took every fiber of her being not to explode on him. She looked up at him, fire burning in her eyes. "Are we done?"
He tilted his head toward the door.
She stomped out of the office as he called behind her, "Week suspension, Meghan."
She hardly listened.